


Lethdor -- Bachelor Party - Aftermath

by MaureenLycaon



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, Funny, Non-Explicit Sex, blood elves and trolls, non-con drugging implied but not explicitly stated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22661989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaureenLycaon/pseuds/MaureenLycaon
Summary: Lethdor lets a warlock in-law convince him to have one last night of "freedom" before his marriage to Faenileda. Baaad idea.





	Lethdor -- Bachelor Party - Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> (Never allow Devori the Warlock to give you "one last night of freedom" before the day of your marriage. Seriously. Nothing good can ever come of it.
> 
> My grateful thanks to a friend who came up with the original idea and worked out the story with me over the phone one night. ;)
> 
> Copyright disclaimer: the Warcraft universe and games belong to Blizzard Entertainment. Only the interpretation and these particular words belong to me, Maureen Lycaon. No copyright challenge intended.)

Lethdor awoke with a foul taste in his mouth and a vague feeling that something was horribly wrong. He lay there for long moments, struggling to make sense of the jumbled memories in his brain from last night.

Devori. Wooden stairs -- oh, Booty Bay.

Something about trolls. Female trolls.

A bachelor party, Devori had said. One last taste of freedom for him, he'd said.

Fel-cursed warlock. Fel-cursed perpetually half-naked, drunken warlock.

The memories started to gel.

They'd arrived late in the afternoon, and Devori had led him straight to the Salty Sailor Tavern. He'd been astonished to find the tavern closed, its entrance corded off and guarded by the burliest goblins that Booty Bay had to offer. He was even more astonished when Devori went up to one of the bouncers, and the goblin waved them both right in.

Lethdor had envisioned a frantic pub crawl -- running from one bar, tavern and inn to the next, possibly ending up with them both drunk and falling off their mounts. He hadn't expected this. The warlock had rented out the *whole* inn, just for this one party.

Half a dozen poles had been installed, each with its own stripper. Trouble was, all the strippers were trolls. Female trolls. In fact, other than the bouncers, he and Devori were the only males.

He should have run then. Instead, he ordered a drink at the bar. Devori insisted on paying for it. He'd sat with gritted teeth, sipping the drink -- he didn't even remember what it was -- pretending to enjoy the show as one particularly tall female troll undulated in front of them, breasts bobbing, in a way that would have been interesting if she hadn't had blue skin and the usual troll tusks.

Shortly afterward, things became blurry and chaotic. He couldn't put the shards of memories together in a way that made sense. 

One memory stood out, clearer than the rest: Devori, who had at one point shed his clothes, behind an equally naked troll who was bent over a table, pumping away.

He had a vague recollection of other strippers rubbing against him in a way that left him thoroughly confused about his own species and feelings. And then . . .

Had he tried that double-inverted half-lotus position he'd been saving for Faen? He couldn't quite remember. He was still too muzzy to be sure whether his thighs ached or not.

Even as the question formed in his muddled mind, a distinct scent filled his nostrils -- the musky, somewhat acrid smell of troll. At first, he thought it was a memory from last night. Then he felt warmth on his back. He rolled over and only then opened his eyes.

"How are ya, darling?" purred the blue troll woman, as she stretched her long body against him. "Ya want another go before ya leave?"

Lethdor sat bolt upright, the cobwebs driven clean out of his head. He was in the largest, most luxurious bedroom that Booty Bay offered. Another troll, still snuggled tightly against him, murmured sleepily as she began to wake.

He looked around wildly, only to see Devori pop his head through the door, smiling broadly.

The warlock stepped into the bedroom. He was still naked. So were the two troll women who entered with him, one on each arm, looking tired but happy.

A moment later, Coyokae followed, equally naked. "So," he said cheerily, "did we enjoy ourselves?"

"You bastards," Lethdor began, preparing a full-fledged volley of Thalassian profanity to hurl at them both -- and that was when one of the trolls beside him stirred again, and he felt a large hand curl around a part of him no troll had any business being anywhere near.

He exploded out of the bed.

Afterward, he had no clear memory of how he'd gotten to Silvermoon City, naked except for a drapery pulled around his waist, than he did of the rest of the night. He must have portaled.

He managed to summon up his riding crane and rode through the city, wearing only the drapery, as fast as possible. Thankfully, it was well past midnight, and only about a dozen people actually saw him. Even so, this bit of gossip would be up and down Silvermoon City by morning. He had no doubt he'd be hearing whispers and being asked questions for weeks. He pushed the protesting crane to its limit, struggling to keep the drapery modestly around his waist as he bounced in the saddle.

He'd almost made it to the Shepherd's Gate when the two guards stepped out firmly before him, spears crossed to block his path.

_Fuck._

"Halt," one of them ordered. He didn't look at all worried or shocked, as if this were a common traffic stop, all routine.

"Yes, sir," he answered reluctantly, feeling both cold and even more naked than he was as the two guards eyed him with more amusement than curiosity.

"You're a bit informal, there," the first guard drawled. "Just what is going on?" 

"Uh" -- he recollected his wits, grimaced, admitted the truth. "Bachelor party. I just got back."

They exchanged smirks. "I see," the first guard said, still smirking. "Go get yourself home." His nose twitched. "And take a bath."

He stepped back with a nod, followed by the second one. Lethdor could feel their eyes on his back and hear their unvoiced laughter as he rode out the Gate and turned west, toward Dawning Lane -- and home.

He wondered what the fel to tell Faenileda -- if anything.

Later, in the bath, when he discovered the bite marks on his arms and legs, he realized she would know anyway.


End file.
